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305

Other. The immediate, ignorant moment was like that wire
to him.

But while he moved forward, surrendering himself to the
moment, complacent and surprised that it was so easy, after
all, to live by that definition of life, he grew increasingly
aware of what was, apparently, a purely physical discomfort.
He felt like a man who thinks himself recovered from an
illness, and goes about his normal affairs to find, unexpectedly,
that the sickness is still there in his bones and vitals. It is not
because of it, he thought, because of what happened. His
mind automatically refused the statement of what had hap-
pened; the fact itself was denied in namelessness. But the
discomfort increased. The knowledge which his mind denied
rose in his'bowels. Fm sick, he thought, it's just that I'm a
little sick. The nausea rose in him like sediment in a dis-
turbed vessel.

Finally, he slipped from the saddle and vomited on the
grass by the road.

He clung to the stirrup leather, supporting himself, until
his strength returned. When he came to the branch that ran
across the road, under a little plank bridge, he again dis-
mounted. Trees grew thickly there, along the water, but
where he knelt the grass was soft under his knees. He sank
his hands and wrists into the cool water, wetting his sleeves,
From his cupped hands he supped up the water and rinsed
his mouth, and then drank. Then, leaning over the surface
and holding his face close, he bathed Ms face in the water and
pressed the coldness of Ms hands against Ms eyes. Feeling
the water on Ms face, he thought suddenly of Treveiyan's
face in the water. In the water of the quarry. The man had
said, in the water. He rose quickly, clumsy with haste, and
stared at the water before him. It was black under the trees.
A man would lie in the water and the water would be over
Mm and inside of Mm and he would become a part of the
water. The water wMch he had just drunk so avidly felt cold
and inimical within Mm. Again he had the impulse to vomit,
but controlled himself.